


All We Do for Love and a Living

by 00Wandering_Ghost00



Series: WG Originals [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Attempt at Humor, Cybernetically Augmented Characters, Cyborged Elves, Cyborgs, Don't Like Don't Read, Drug trafficking, Elves, Fantasy-Cyberpunk Fusion, I might tie those loose ends in another one shot, I suck at tagging, I'm no scientist therefore won't do much explaining about how stuff works here, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mercenaries, Might contain more triggering stuff, No Techblahblah, One Shot, Outlaws, Same-Sex Marriage, Shootouts, coarse language, criminal activity, loose ends, proceed with care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 13:32:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Wandering_Ghost00/pseuds/00Wandering_Ghost00
Summary: Meet Andrew Gage, retired cybersoldier and unemployed mercenary. Also meet his spouse, Erevan Lethallas, former gang member, also fully cyborged and dealing on the shady side of things. They have a more-or-less boring everyday life, but when one day someone steals their whole tent of genetically modified plants, things go a bit out of hand...Or: Two cyborgs, a tent of GM hemp, and an old enemy that comes back to bite them in the ass.





	All We Do for Love and a Living

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there dear reader, a few words before you dive into the story:
> 
> First of all, the whole things takes place on my own world I've been building for quite a long time, therefore I apologize for a lot of unfamiliar stuff. I intend to do more explaining in the next or so one-shots I might be writing about these characters or just this world-setting. 
> 
> The story is also a sort-of prompt fill, which was "gay married cyborgs protecting their gm marijuana with 3D printed guns they bought with bitcoins". So yes, there are mentions of drugs, weapons, bitcoins and also some mild techblahblah, because cyberpunk. And cyborgs. (but hey, one of the characters is actually a mage, the other is an elf, so there's some fantasy elements as well! :B ) If you are sensitive for any or all of the aforementioned stuff, then this piece of fiction might not be for you. (Neither most of my writing, because I include bad stuff in them all the time.)  
> If you want to see some explanation of lore, go see the notes below the story.

 

Anson Heat saw many things in his career, including the destruction of a whole city-state by a combined force of magic and technology. Yet the elf sitting in front of him, staring at him with his empty cybernetic eyes that were glowing in an unnatural hue of blue made the seasoned battlemage feel alert. This cyborg was dangerous. The human glanced over the elf, barely smaller than he was, covered in some sort of tattoos that swirled around on his limbs and half-covered his face. The synthetic skin on the elf’s left arm was missing, along with the arm-length blade it covered. Heat thought the anti-cyber squad took it when they finally disarmed the man. He sat down to the opposite side of the table, shoving an old-fashioned dossier to the elf’s side. “I heard you wanted to see me.” the elf spoke, his tone the usual cocky and aloof as all of the street-bound ‘borgs sounded. Heat opened the dossier and picked a picture from one of the papers collected therein. It depicted a male human, with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes, in the uniform of the Allied Forces of Ylliria. A now non-existent army, which fell apart after the war, leaving only the most determined or desperate behind. Like the Wasteland Marauders, the mercenary organization Heat was working for. “Andrew Gage.” Heat uttered the name of the man on the picture. “When was the last time you saw him?” The elf picked the picture up from the table, examining it without a hint of any expression. “Gage, you say? Nope, don’t ring a bell.” Even though he wasn’t cybernetically augmented, Heat could punch a neat dent in the surface of the table when his fist met it with appropriate force. “Don’t fuck around with me, elf.” he hissed between his teeth. “We lost one of us. And I’m here to know why.” The cyborg shrugged, feeling a small amount of satisfaction from the frown the sound of his mechanical limbs put on the mage’s face. “And why would I talk to you? I’d gain nothing from it.” Small flames began to flicker on the mercenary’s hand that was still balled in a fist and planted in the desk. “I already told the whole story to the police.” the elf deadpanned. Maybe something was off with his voice-module. “I can only tell you what I told them. But I won’t speak without my lawyer.” Heat pulled his hand back from the dent and put the flames out. He took another picture out of the dossier.

“Erevan Lethallas, a.k.a. Bladewing.” an awkward moment passed between them. “Seriously? Bladewing?” Lethallas shrugged again. “We don’t do formal here in Oldtown, Lieutenant.” He put the photograph down. “Besides, Bladewings are a part of elven history.” “But they have nothing to do with what happened to Gage, not a whole week ago.” Heat pressed on. “Drop the act. We know you were married. For quite a while now.” Suddenly the elf’s face changed from expressionless to bitter. “What, you want to hear how we met? Not a fancy story, a tad boring to be honest.” “Tell me about last week!” Heat was near of the end of his resolve. He wanted to turn the switch and deactivate the cyborg, so one with a little bit more patience for mind games and fast talk could continue the interrogation. His bad vibes must be radiated off of him on the right frequency, for the elf let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Fine. What do you want to know?” “Tell me what happened to you and Gage. How he went missing. Tell me, and I’ll might be able to get you a short sentence or a release.” The elf laughed. It was a horrible sound with his malfunctioning voice-module. “I’ll tell. But I still don’t trust you. You bloody bastards were nowhere near when we needed you, and those arseholes with the ASWAT ruined my ink. We had a nice life until you came back to the picture.” Heat wanted to insert some select words about his former colleague’s “nice life” of growing and selling genetically manipulated marijuana among other petty crime, but restrained himself. “We know you guys worked together on multiple occasions, starting with the rebellion in the Southern City-states. Someone from that part of your past came back to bite you in the arse, correct?” The elf didn’t even try to hide his fascination. “I’m impressed. An actual piece of information! Did the cops tell you?” Heat permitted himself a smug grin as he took another picture out of his dossier. This time it was an orc with a scarred face. “Togoz.” Lethallas spat. “Dirty fucker never knew when to quit.” “Did he attack you?” Heat queried. The cyborg glared at him, then he began. “All right, I’ll talk. But only so you can find him, tell me where he is, so I can go and kick his arse. If he still has one.”

 

* * *

 

_“What are you doing?”_

Gage raised his head when he heard the voice, but quickly realised it was on his inner radio. So he rolled his own set of cybernetic eyes and answered his spouse.

 

_“What do you think? On second thought, don’t think about anything, that never turns out well.”_

 

He almost could see the elf’s face as he sent another wave of message.

 

_“Very funny, Andy. But for real, where the fuck are you?”_

_“Doing some gardening. Why?”_

After a long pause, and a little static noise – the broken and decaying parts of Oldtown really did nothing for good receiving, no matter the bandwidth or Wi-Fi card – Gage got another message.

 

_“I’m coming with you. No way I’m going to let you wander around town alone.”_

_“Vanny, in case you forgot: I’m a military grade cyborg, fully armed. I don’t think I’ll need a chaperone to water the weed.”_

As their private radio-dispute went on, Gage reached a clearing between the rotting buildings and rampant plantlife. There was a plastic tent and some gardening devices around it. Something was off, and he could tell already, long before seeing inside.

 

_“Hey elf! Guess what… Some brainless thugs stole our weed. They emptied the tent, I shit you not.”_

_“Stay where you are!”_

Half an hour later they were standing side-by-side, looking over the remains of the tent and the plants. “A bunch of motherless waste of breath these assholes!” Gage was yet again fascinated by the hypnotic pattern of his spouse’s tattoos, so the elf’s sudden outbreak of curses surprised him. “What are we gonna do now?” he asked, mainly to turn the elf’s attention away from the disaster scene that was their garden. “Why, we’re gonna hunt down those fuckers and teach them not to mess with us.” Gage sighed and gestured around the ruins. “Be my guest. If you see any clue about who could do this and why, I swear to you that I’ll follow you around Oldtown and kick the living daylight out of anyone who could be our culprit.” Lethallas turned his piercing gaze on Gage for a long while before raising his brow and saying “Wow. You’re serious.” “Like hell I am. Nobody steals my only source of income and lives.” Lethallas barked out a short, amused laughter. “Only source of income, my ass. But I won’t turn down a helping hand, especially yours.” Gage stepped closer to Lethallas and wrapped his arms around the elf’s shoulders, so their foreheads touched. “We’ll find them.” he stated firmly. “We’ll get our stuff back and to hell with anyone who stands in our way.” The elf’s grin widened. “Keep talking, baby. I’m all ears.”

 

* * *

 

The plastic bag landed with a heavy, clanking sound on the table next to Lethallas’ arsenal of blades and various other weapons. “Bad news.” Gage deadpanned and sat down to the crate next to the table. “How bad?” Lethallas asked while assembling something that looked like a gun. “The name Togoz rings a bell?” The elf looked up. “Fuck.” he pressed out. “I thought you offed the guy.” Andrew ran his fingers through his hair while still staring into the distance. “Yea, I thought that too. Turned out whoever happened to pick up what was left of him, they gave a full-conversion to that nasty piece of trash.” Lethallas hissed air through his teeth. “How bad are our chances now? What type of conversion he has?” Gage shook his head. “Couldn’t really get the schematics, you know? I only know that he’s in a homemade cassis assembled by military grade parts and probably has nasty surprises. Also if the guy was a complete mess of bonkers the last time we saw him, he’ll might be ten times worse now with the implant-psychosis adding to the heap.” Lethallas put the gun he was working on to the table, and begun to assemble another one. “Where did you get these?” Gage asked after a short pause. “I had them 3D printed. As present for our anniversary, but I guess we’ll have better use of them now.” Gage picked up the gun that was already put together and examined it. “These are Hellraisers!” he exclaimed. “Where… How…? These are bloody expensive, and illegal.” Lethallas turned towards his spouse with his usual shit-eating grin. “What do you think I hoarded all those Bitcoins for?” He took the assembled Hellraiser from the other man’s hands and activated it. “It’s made of polymer, and a shit-ton of nanotechnological hoodoo. Police droids won’t be able to see them unless we activate them. Easier than having to smuggle all of our toys through the city.” Gage mirrored the elf’s smile and shook his head. “You know, sometimes I wonder why did I marry you. Then you pull shit like this and make me remember.”

 

* * *

 

The shootout was a topic for news channels for weeks to come. Nobody knew how the two fully cyborged assassins got through town without being noticed by the authorities, but they did. Tracking down their stolen goods wasn’t easy, but they had their connections. The lead they found pointed them to the direction of a warehouse near the docks district, a place where shady deals and frequent patrols by the ASWAT were common. “So what now?” Lethallas nudged Gage. They were squatting on top of the nearest warehouse, looking over the docks. “We break in, get our stuff back and leave. Anyone who stands in our way is minced meat.” The human answered. “I like the way you think.” Lethallas added, then he turned towards Gage with a concerned expression. “No heroics down there, you hear me? Simple job, we go in shit goes down quickly and we both leave with our goods.” Gage nudged him back. “I hear you.” After a short pause though, he voiced another concern. “What if Togoz is there?” Lethallas stared at the warehouse, his cyberoptics already sensing the body heat of the people inside the building, measuring their numbers and if they are augmented or not. “If he’s there, we deal with him.” he answered flatly. “This time for good.”

 

* * *

 

 

“But everyone knows shit don’t fly and plans seldom work.” Heat added to the elf’s tale. Lethallas nodded his head. “Can you tell me how did it went from there? After you broke into the Chrome Legion’s warehouse. I imagine seeing Togoz wasn’t a big surprise after that.” The elf drummed a rhythmless tune on the desk’s surface, his metallic fingers dancing an eerily natural way. “Seeing the fucker wasn’t surprising at all. To realise that he’s now one of the Chrome Legion… Well, I always pegged the guys to have some sort of standard. Accepting a walking piece of refuse like Togoz made their reputation a tad tarnished in my eyes, you see.”

 

* * *

 

 

Another swing of that wrecking ball of a metal fist sent Lethallas flying through the thin plastisteel wall of the warehouse and land inside a pile of garbage. His systems sent a wave of error-messages and warnings but he ignored them and stood up with a grunt. Shots were fired, flames rose up, and before they knew the whole warehouse was ablaze. They gunned down the Chromes that dwelled in the place with relative ease, but Togoz posed a greater challenge than he did last time, with half as many implants. Now the orc was barely recognizable under the metal. Lethallas thought he was closer to a commercial vehicle than an orc or any kind of living creature. He glanced at his Hellraiser to check ammunition. The weapon’s systems responded to the cyborg’s, assessing necessary ammo and estimated time remaining before they completely run out. Their chances were thinner than the synthetic skin on their arms. _“Sinrath.”_ Lethallas hated to curse in elvish, but sometimes he returned to his mother language, especially under stress. And seeing his spouse used as a battering ram and being thrown around like some kind of a cybernetic ragdoll counted as stress even in his vocabulary. He heard the unmistakable sound of an ASWAT aircraft approaching, so he braced himself and rushed back into the burning building. He was going to either save or avenge Gage, but whatever happens, he was sure that Togoz won’t be a threat for long anyway.

 

Gage felt the wires and servos giving up as his left arm got ripped off from his torso. Thankfully he activated the pain management system, so he didn’t feel the shock, but losing an arm – and an armblade – sent him into a grave state of disadvantage. He still had his Hellraiser, and ammo that could pierce the shell of that juggernaut towering over him. “Eat lead!” he howled and pulled the trigger, knowing that these might end up as his last words. He couldn’t see Lethallas anywhere, so he assumed he got knocked out or worse. The recoil sent him scooting a few feet backwards, but he managed to shoot some potholes into Togoz’s armour. Then he heard it too. The sound of an aerial unit.

_“Shit it’s the anti-cyborg squad. They’ll gonna turn us into slag if we don’t do a run-for-it. Like right now.”_

He only hoped that Lethallas gets his message.

_“Erevan… Do you copy?”_

The radio silence made him worry. So much that he didn’t notice the chainsaw-like weapon being swung at him, only when he was two legs shorter.

 

Lethallas swore under his breath when he saw the losing battle inside the warehouse. His inner radio emitted only static noise and some unintelligible gibberish he couldn’t understand, so he ignored it. He aimed his Hellraiser and shot until the last bullet lodged neatly into Togoz’s metal skull, then threw the weapon away to rush towards the slowly collapsing cyborg, armblade ready. Before the juggernaut could hit the floor, the elf severed its head, disconnecting the former orc’s brain from the life-support system of the metallic body it inhabited until a few minutes ago.

 

Gage didn’t feel so high. He lost one arm, both legs and various systems needed replacement in his body. He also started to feel the shock and the pain his trauma-damper repressed until now. He was lying on his back, staring at the cloudy night sky. Rain started to fall, but the waterdrops were replaced by the sight of a huge aircraft’s belly, pouring heavily armoured cybersoldiers. His vision glitched then he lost that as well. Damn.

 

* * *

 

 

“According to the ASWAT, they had to neutralize you.” Heat added to the story. “What can I say, sometimes I get protective of my loved-ones. Especially if they are in a state of disrepair.” Lethallas deadpanned as an answer. “You took down three of them with only an armblade. That’s bloody impressive.” “I’m flattered. Is this going anywhere?” Heat wasn’t sure what else could he probably ask from the elf that he didn’t already know. “I never heard of an elven berserker before.” he admitted. “Well, I know they are more common amongst orcs and dwarves and humans, but we have them too.” Lethallas’ grin returned to his features. “Why do you think I needed a cybernetic conversion in the first place? I wasn’t born a cyborg, you see.” Heat chuckled. “I have only one question, then you’re free to go.” he stated after a short pause. “Where is Gage now?” The elf barked a laughter. “What makes you think I know?” “Is he dead?” Lethallas sighed. “I hope not. You know, despite us cyborgs not being made of glass, there’s so much damage one can sustain before the hardware breaks under him.” Heat rose from the table, and took his papers and photographs. Before he could leave the interrogation room, the elf stopped him. “Once a Marauder, always a Marauder yea?” Heat turned back. Lethallas’ bright blue cybereyes focused on him, like a snake focuses on the snake-charmer. “Find Gage. Re-build him if needed. And this time, you twats better to be there for him, because I’m sure I won’t be. You might set me free now, but as far as I know the ASWAT, I’m on their list now. One misstep, and I’ll be reduced to slag by a railgun. I’ll head back to the Free States in the South. So if you see the fucker, and re-wire him to look like a functioning human…” Heat nodded. “I’ll send him to find you.” The elf nodded in response, and the mage left the room, already writing the report for his superiors. “Gage, you’re one lucky bastard.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> If you liked it, please leave feedback or constructive criticism (I might add that the "plotholes" and loose ends are there on purpose, so I can build on them in the next one-shot, so if you find anything else to mention, I'm all ears). It's just a click, or if you feel a bit wordy, leave a comment! :)
> 
> Notes:  
> \- Hellraisers are advanced, AI controlled weapons so heavy that only cyborgs can wield them. They are banned in most countries and city-states because of their heavy firepower and because mad cyborgs are a threat in themselves without guns that fire shit that can take a tank down, tyvm.  
> \- Oldtown is a part of the port city of Larien, the capitol of Ylliria. Ylliria (here) is a country on the Northwest part of a continent named Sethyr.  
> \- I plan to write more stories in this world-setting and with these characters, so stay tuned if you liked this one.


End file.
